


A Little Something Something for Everyone

by frumious_bandersnatch, InHisImage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Casifer, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Imbalance, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumious_bandersnatch/pseuds/frumious_bandersnatch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/InHisImage/pseuds/InHisImage
Summary: Amara abducts Lucifer because maybe then God would listen. Except that also means she has Cas. Now Dean is a little too invested to sit tight and wait for a grand plan to unfold, decides to jump to the rescue all on his own. Things, expectedly, go awry.(A brief canon-divergent from S11E21: All in the Family)
Relationships: Amara/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Castiel/Amara/Lucifer, Lucifer/Dean Winchester
Comments: 17
Kudos: 26





	A Little Something Something for Everyone

Dean let out a long, slow sigh as he stared down at the angel blade clutched in his hand. Not that it was going to be any goddamn help with anything he wanted to do, but it was a comfort. Was enough to have him almost up to the usual level of bravado he had going into a life or death scenario.

This was a rescue mission. Amara was (probably, hopefully) distracted for the moment, he needed to get in there, get Cas, get out, because Castiel (Lucifer, really, much as Dean hated to acknowledge the fact Cas was co-habbing with that dick) was important to what they were trying to do, the mess they were trying to fix. Dean was only being practical. 

So, yeah. Suicide mission to save his best friend in the world from… he wasn’t even sure what Amara was to him. He didn’t like to think about the feelings that felt so odd, so alien, that stirred in him when he thought about her.

He slipped in through an open side door, face falling and brow creasing. “Cas,” He murmured, eyes sweeping the room before he immediately started forwards for the angel, trying to work him out of his bonds. “Hey, man, I’m gonna get you outta here, okay? Just give me a minute.” He said quietly, looking back over his shoulder and hoping to god that if Lucifer was in control he'd know to keep his fucking mouth shut until Dean was at least done with the spell. 

Sam and Donatello had worked out a spell to undo the Darkness’ shackles. Dean had stolen everything he could put his hands on and made his way here before anyone could stop him. Why risk it? Why so recklessly impatient? He wasn’t sure. 

By the time he was smearing his own blood (and whatever other ingredients he couldn't exactly name but Sam most definitely would) over the bonds and by the time he was almost done muttering an Enochian incantation (hurried and breathless and badly pronounced all too hell), the slumped angel on the cross lifted his head with some effort and flashed a bright, shining smirk. 

It looked utterly wrong for two very specific reasons. One: too wide, too entertained, too animated for anything Castiel could have ever displayed in however many years he’d been on Earth and disregarding his continuous honest-to-god attempts to emote his face into something a little less reserved and stiff than the angelic equivalent of a Greek statue when he smiled. 

Two: because Castiel, or not-Castiel, was covered head to toe in fresh wounds, caked in blood and sweat and the sort of cosmic suffering Dean couldn’t possibly fathom for all his forty years in Hell. And yet he was wheezing through a chuckle like he was having the time of his fucking life. 

“Ahh, Dean.” Lucifer huffed, “I had this little tingling feeling you’d come to the rescue all by your lonesome in a fit of miscalculated heroism-” Paused, swallowed, moaned, resumed, “Since it’s your, mm, Cassy here getting the Nazarene treatment right along with me after all.” He sighed, groaned again, sputtered blood and sucked air through his teeth, “The things we do for love.”

Dean’s jaw ticked and he shook his head, forcing himself not to brandish the blade stashed in his jacket because it was still Cas in there, still Cas in pain and groaning and with blood staining his teeth. 

“You want me to let you down or not?” He snapped, ignoring the insinuation because he’d already heard it from everyone, friend or foe, and he was just tired of it and did anyone really think he was in touch enough with his own feelings to know if he liked anything or anyone beyond instant gratification, beyond one night stands? He shook his head, disregarding that train of thought because it _really_ wasn’t the best time.

One hand shifted to brace up behind Lucifer’s back as the other finally pulled his right wrist loose. “Can you hold yourself up?”

“Don’t think so,” Lucifer murmured, eyes travelling past Dean and keeping watch on the entrance. Not that Amara needed doors, or that this rescue attempt wasn’t doomed to fail anyway. But an archangel could hope. 

“Don’t think I can fly us out of here, either. So if that was part of your rash plan charging in like the knight in shining armor you are, I have bad news for both of us, buddy.” He stretched his free arm, flexing and unflexing his fingers and staring idly at his own hand. 

“But hey, we’re on the same team for once. I’m gonna give Cassandra the floor cause you humans,” He smacked his lips, chewed on a chapped dry lip as he tried to harness however much grace he could into keeping himself straight up and functional, “-have a way of working things out with the right motivation. Chop chop though, no time for steamy welcome-home parties.”

And then it was Castiel. The transition immediate and unnerving. And the angel gazed at Dean like he just realized he was here and he shook his head, cleared his throat, again, looked like he needed a moment to reacquaint himself with his own physical facilities. 

“What are you doing here, Dean? Dangerous… Too dangerous.”

“I’m not letting you die on me.” Dean said firmly. “I’m not going to let her kill you. Worst that can happen…” Dean pursed his lips. She wouldn’t kill him, he knew that. Probably wouldn’t kill Cas because he mattered so much to Dean. “Is she kills Lucifer. That’s fine.” It wasn’t, but Dean couldn’t help the fleeting, wry smile.

“Need you to lean forwards, Cas. Lean on me, let me get your other wrist, let me get you outta here, buddy.” He breathed, one arm slung around the angel; offering support as he tugged desperately at the rest of the restraints and so close, so fucking close and would something finally turn out for once? 

“You’ll be okay.”

Castiel collapsed forward, grunting. Lucifer did take most of the damage because, well, he could take it. And with him in the backseat now, Castiel felt it all and it was terrible. Almost knocked air and sense out of him to move his vessel’s limbs a fucking inch in the right direction. 

“I’m fine,” He rasped out, dizzy and nauseous and head lolling uselessly over Dean’s shoulder. Seemed out of it for a second before he blinked himself into lucidity again and bit on the inside of his cheek, “Where’s, uh, Sam, the- how are we gonna... car?”

He buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and slipped his eyes shut, struggled to whisper anything audible or substantial through the haze of pain and heaviness, “Shouldn’t be here alone-”

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, car’s outside, just a couple yards.” Dean promised, forcing his voice to stay soft and even because he figured Cas needed that. He’d need that, were the positions swapped. “Alright, I’ve got you. Let’s see if we can get out there, get you out there, okay?” He soothed again, draping one of Castiel’s arms over his shoulders and wrapping one of his around the angel’s middle. “Probably can’t put much weight on your feet, that’s okay, just don’t want them dragging so I’m going to need you to walk with me. Well as you can.” And then he was walking, shuffling, guiding Castiel down and off of the raised platform.

Castiled nodded once and couldn’t hold his head back up. He huffed a drawn out groan the second the weight of his vessel fell on his feet and fire shot up his spine, even the arm draped around Dean’s neck ached something awful and he thought his tendons would tear if this went on a second longer. 

The darkness tended to do that, crawl into the very fabric of a biological organism and devastate it from the inside out. Castiel didn’t have enough grace, or energy, to separate himself from his vessel or tone out an ounce of physical damage inflected on the human skin he wore, shared with the devil really. 

“Dean- can’t-” He croaked, one foot slipping under him as he swayed forward and almost brought Dean down and onto the floor face first with him. “Let Lucifer take the-” His knees bent involuntarily, a muscle in his shoulder clicked too loud, “Father in Heaven!” He cried out, eyes widening briefly before he squeezed them shut and tried to make himself breathe. 

Dean stumbled, just barely catching Castiel before his head hit the ground. He grunted with the effort, slowly lowering Castiel to slump on the floor. “No. No, Cas, come on,” He hissed under his breath, gaze graveling once again to the door. “Cas- you’re in charge. You’re in charge, I need you to,” He hooked his hands under the angel’s arms and tried to raise him back up. “Need you to cast Lucifer out. It’s him she wants,right? If we all get out of here, he finds a new vessel, we have you back, right? Need you to,” He grit his teeth. ”Work with me here, buddy, just a little longer, we can get out there. Come on.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel tried, his vessel weighed a ton and he felt himself actively being crushed beneath it, “Wanted to- to be useful. Tell Sam I’m sorry- no time, hh… Wow,” And his head perked up, feet planting themselves on the floor with some effort and pushing up with Dean in a burst of energy that wasn’t there to spare a second ago, “That was a spectacular waste of time. What did I say about getting too sappy? Save it for when we’re not right in the lion’s lair.” 

And Lucifer exhaled exasperatedly, corrected himself as he leaned most of his weight into Dean and managed to keep the rest relatively mobile, “Lioness.”

Dean stumbled forwards. “Good, great, let’s stop fucking talking and just get out of here.” He snapped, decidedly less tender and body decidedly more tense as he practically marched Lucifer to the door and barely gave the archangel a moment to right himself fully as they went and as his boots crunched on the gravel outside Dean felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Never mind that they were hardly out of the woods yet and you should never count your chickens before they hatch and all the other funny little ways humans have to say ‘never celebrate until you’re sure.’

Dean felt it before he heard the words. The buzz of fretful grace pressed right into his side and the sudden glimmer of red fizzling in the eyes darting to stab daggers into his own. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger but-” Lucifer clicked his tongue, “She’s here.”

Dean shook his head, swearing under his breath and gripping at the back of Castiel’s trench coat a little tighter. There it was. Winchester luck, of course, of fucking course, and what was there to do? He didn’t know what the protocol was for being found out by a primordial being halfway through an escape attempt.

He felt, suddenly, so small. Had felt it before, when he first met Death, when he first looked at Chuck and knew that right there was God with a capital G. Had felt it when they’d all tumbled headfirst into this familial drama, the barn, the, ‘I am an angel of the lord’.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purely experimental. We'd love to experiment with it all the way though. Thoughts, suggestions, feedback would be super appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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